


Waffles & Milkshakes

by smarshtastic



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Blackwatch Era, Blackwatch Jesse McCree, Blackwatch Reaper | Gabriel Reyes, First Dates, Fluff, M/M, McReaper, Milkshakes, Waffles, mcreyes - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-28
Updated: 2016-12-28
Packaged: 2018-09-12 19:06:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9085921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smarshtastic/pseuds/smarshtastic
Summary: “I don’t think we can say we’re dating,” Jesse says conversationally. Gabe looks up from his reports, eyebrow raised. Jesse, leaning all the way back in his seat and staring at the ceiling, goes on, “I mean, we don’t really go on dates. We just spend time together and it’s not always spent havin’ sex.”---Neither Jesse nor Gabe are the dating type, but that doesn't mean they shouldn't at least try.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fabrega](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fabrega/gifts).



> So, [fabrega](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fabrega) is working on something SAD and she showed me a snippet that killed me, so I had to counteract with sickly, sweet, saccharine fluff. 
> 
> You can find me on [tumblr](http://wictorwictor.tumblr.com/) and [twitter](https://twitter.com/smarshtastic).
> 
> ETA: UMMM?? The truly incredible [wakeupt](http://wakeupt.tumblr.com) drew this for [McReyes Spring Break](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/McReyesSpringBreak) and I am DECEASED. Please look at this and appreciate the softness: [HERE](http://wakeupt.tumblr.com/post/158593747234/mcreyes-spring-break-day-1-firsts-first-date)!!!

“You hungry?” Reyes asks, looking sidelong at Jesse. He’s caught mid-yawn. Jesse straightens quickly, hoping that his commander didn’t catch it. The truth is that he’s really, really tired, and really, really hungry; the operation that was supposed to take a day ended up taking three, and they weren’t exactly prepared for that possibility. To his embarrassment, Jesse’s stomach rumbles loudly. 

“Uh, I could eat, I guess,” Jesse says, louder to hide the noise even as the color rises to his cheeks. Reyes raises an eyebrow but doesn’t comment. 

“I know a place,” Reyes says. 

“Yeah?” Jesse asks doubtfully. It’s got to be two in the morning at least - what could be open at this hour, in these parts?

“Yeah. Come on.”

=-=-=

It’s a twenty minute drive down a bumpy country road. Jesse manages to fall asleep, even though his head keeps bumping against the passenger seat window. Reyes touches his knee as the truck comes to a stop. Jesse startles awake. 

“‘M up,” he says, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. Reyes jerks his head toward the restaurant; the lights are on but there are only a few people inside. 

“Come on, my treat,” Reyes says. Jesse blinks at that, a little smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. He always liked these solo missions with Reyes; maybe Jesse’s imagining it, but Reyes always treats him a little nicer when it’s just the two of them. It does nothing for the crush he’s been harboring. Once, he even kissed him - after too much whiskey and a self-imposed dare. He’s pretty sure that Reyes kissed him back before he pulled away, mumbling something gruff about too much to drink. But Reyes never stopped him; he always stayed close, he still picked Jesse for missions. Sometimes - rarely - Jesse would work up the courage to kiss him again. Reyes never pushes him away. It keeps the flame smoldering in Jesse’s chest. 

Reyes slides out of the truck and Jesse scrambles after him. Strangely, Reyes holds the door open for Jesse. It takes him a moment to figure that one out before Jesse steps in ahead of him. A bored looking waitress looks up. 

“Two?”

“Can we get a booth in the back?” Reyes asks. Jesse blinks, sneaking a sideways glance at Reyes. The waitress shrugs and leads them to a booth in the corner. Jesse slides into the booth and Reyes sits across from him. They both pick up their menus, Jesse’s mind racing. He’s surely letting his crush taint his outlook here. He focuses on the menu. There’s too many things to choose from and Jesse can’t help but looking at the prices, a habit left over from his leaner days in Deadlock that he still hasn’t been able to shake. It’s a lot less than some of the places around the base, but Jesse still has a hard time not counting his pennies. Toast is probably fine - that’ll at least tide him over until he gets back to the base. Maybe some coffee, if he’s allowed. 

Jesse sneaks a peek over the top of his menu. Reyes looks relaxed, but Jesse knows better; he has an arm slung over the back of the booth, looking out at the restaurant, taking stock of the late night clientele. He looks back at Jesse and catches his gaze, cocks an eyebrow up. Jesse ducks behind the menu again. 

“You know what you want?” Reyes asks. 

“Yeah,” Jesse says, putting the menu down. He cranes his neck to take a look at the dining room for himself. There’s about six other people at two different tables - sparse. Exits are clear. “You’ve been here before?”

“A couple times. It’s good for late night fixes,” Reyes says. Jesse bobs his head a little. The waitress comes back to their table, pad in hand. 

“Ready?”

Reyes looks at Jesse expectantly. He hurriedly picks up the menu again. “Uh - yeah. Toast? With butter?”

“That’s it?” the waitress asks, face skeptical. Reyes’ expression hasn’t changed, though his eyebrows might have risen slightly higher. 

“Coffee?” Jesse asks after a moment of panic. The waitress shrugs. 

“Sure, sweetheart,” she says, turning her attention to Reyes. “And for you?”

“Two eggs - over easy - with extra bacon, crisp. Smothered hashbrowns with cheese and an order of waffles, too,” Gabe says. Jesse suddenly finds himself salivating. “And coffee.”

“Coming right up.”

The waitress whisks their menus away and bustles off. Jesse sinks down in his seat a little, feeling embarrassed for reasons he can’t quite explain. He fidgets with the silverware. 

“You sure that’s gonna be enough?” Reyes asks. 

“Yeah. I’ll eat when we get back to base,” Jesse says with a shrug. He can feel Reyes staring at him but - thankfully - he doesn’t press the issue. 

“You did good out there, Jesse,” Reyes says. At the sound of his first name, Jesse looks up. Reyes only uses his first name very occasionally - only when they’re alone, an intimacy that makes Jesse’s heart beat faster. He swallows around it. 

“Thanks,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck a bit self-consciously. “Wish it would’ve gone better, though.”

“Eh, it went fine. Just took a while longer than we thought it would,” Reyes says. Jesse nods. 

“I’m glad you were there, Gabe,” Jesse says, trying out Reyes’ first name to gauge the reaction. It was still one of those things that Jesse wasn’t quite sure about; if the two of them were on that level, or if they were still trying to keep it professional. To Jesse’s surprise, the corner of Reyes’ mouth turns up and Jesse swears his eyes sparkle a little. It makes his heart flutter again. He finds himself returning the smile with a lopsided one of of his own. “I guess it could’ve been a lot worse, huh?”

“Went better than that train job did, anyway.”

“That was mostly Edwards’ fault,” Jesse says quickly. “He misjudged the jump.”

“I thought you both were going to fly off the back of the train,” Reyes -  _ Gabe -  _ says with a little laugh. Jesse brightens, going less defensive. 

“We almost did. I nearly ripped my shoulder outta the socket tryin’ to keep a hold on him,” Jesse says, leaning his elbows on the table. “Edwards didn’t even give me so much as a thank you afterwards.”

“Why do you think he got the shit assignments after that?” Gabe says. The look he’s giving Jesse can only be construed as  _ sly _ and Jesse really doesn’t know what to do with that. Fortunately, he’s saved from formulating an answer as the waitress comes back, laden down with their food. She sets a pile down in front of Gabe. It smells  _ amazing _ . Jesse feels his mouth watering again; the small plate of buttered toast in front of him doesn’t look substantial at all. He reaches for the sugar packets to dump two or three into his mug of coffee with a healthy glug of milk. He takes a deep gulp and then picks up a piece of toast. It’s drier than he’d prefer - he wonders if they’ll charge for more butter. He has another gulp of coffee to wash it down. 

“You want to try some of this?” Gabe says, gesturing with his fork at his plate. “I don’t know what they do to the hashbrowns, but they’re amazing.” 

“Oh - yeah? Can I?”

“Help yourself,” Gabe says. He nudges the plate closer to Jesse, who picks up his fork and scoops up a healthy bite of the hashbrowns. They’re greasy and crispy and oniony with bits of cheese - it’s so good and so rich and Jesse finds himself reaching for another bite. 

“Try it with some egg,” Gabe says, sipping his coffee. Jesse does so, enthusiastically. Gabe offers him one of the slices of bacon - Jesse takes two, at Gabe’s encouragement. Before he realizes it, Jesse’s eaten nearly half of Gabe’s plate. He stops, mid-bite, as the realization dawns on him. He swallows thickly, nearly choking on the bite. Jesse clears his throat. 

“Ah - you want some toast?” Jesse offers, knowing it’s a weak gesture. Gabe is smiling, though, just a little bit - leaning back in his seat and nursing his cup of coffee. 

“Sure. Did you try the waffles?” Gabe leans forward to snag a piece of toast off Jesse’s plate. Jesse eyes the waffles - they look good; fluffy and crisp at the same time. There’s a little vat of maple syrup next to it, tempting him, but Jesse scoots back in his own seat. 

“Oh - no, no,” Jesse says. “I’m alright. You’re right, though - it’s all real good.”

He picks up one of his remaining pieces of toast and sips his coffee. He avoids looking at Gabe, embarrassed all over again. They sit quietly for a while - Jesse chewing his dry toast, Gabe working on his waffles. 

“You should really try a milkshake, though,” Gabe says finally. “Probably the best thing here. And since you only ordered the toast…”

Jesse looks up. Gabe is still smiling. There’s that twinkle in his eyes again too. Jesse can’t shake the feeling that he’s teasing him. 

“I’m good,” Jesse says. He’s trying hard not to think about the cost - he doesn’t remember seeing it on the menu. 

“I might just have to order one for myself, then,” Gabe says. “Strawberry, or chocolate?”

Jesse shrugs. “They’re both probably good.”

“Strawberry, then.”

Jesse wonders - not for the first time - if SEP actually taught Gabe how to read minds, or if he is just that good on his own. 

Gabe flags down the waitress and orders the milkshake - strawberry with whipped cream and a cherry on top. Jesse drinks the dregs of his coffee and gets an unpleasant mouthful of undissolved sugar. He makes a face. 

“Too much sugar?” Gabe asks. 

“Old habits,” Jesse says with a shrug. He pushes his mug away. “There was this place we used to eat at - the coffee tasted like dirt and the only way to make it drinkable was lots of sugar and milk.”

“The coffee here isn’t actually that bad, all things considered,” Gabe says. 

“Yeah, it’s a pretty nice place,” Jesse looks around again. The booth is in good condition, the counters clean, none of the lights are out. Nobody’s starting a fight over three dollars and burnt pancakes. “The food’s good.”

“Glad you think so,” Gabe says. “We haven’t eaten anything real in three days, though, so pretty much anything will taste good at this point.”

Jesse lets out a little laugh, relaxing again. “That’s for sure. Those ration bars are pretty nasty.”

The waitress brings the milkshake to the table, and Jesse does his best not to stare. Gabe stops the waitress before she walks away. 

“Could we get another straw?”

Jesse feels the color rise to his cheeks. The waitress glances between them, then fishes another straw out of her apron and drops it on the table. Gabe unwraps it and sticks it into the drink. 

“Here - take a sip,” he says. Jesse hesitates. Gabe pushes the milkshake toward him. “It’s not gonna kill you.”

Jesse leans forward to take a sip. It’s rich and creamy - tastes like real strawberries. He makes himself pull away before he drinks too much of it. He licks his lips and looks up to see Gabe watching him. 

“It’s good,” Jesse says. Gabe plucks the cherry off the top and sets it between his lips. Jesse realizes he’s staring too late; Gabe’s already smiling at him again. Jesse ducks his head and clears his throat. He pushes the rest of his waffles to Jesse. 

“Finish these, I’ll work on the milkshake.”

Between the two of them, they finish all the food on the table. Gabe keeps offering milkshake to Jesse, and at a certain point, Jesse decides it’s rude to keep refusing. They even order more food; hashbrowns, another side of bacon, more eggs. The conversation comes easily, peppered with stories that make both of them laugh and, by the end of their impromptu late night dinner, Jesse’s properly full in a way that he hasn’t been in what feels like a long time. The waitress slides the bill onto the table as she passes by. 

“You can pay up front,” she says. Gabe grabs the check before Jesse can even try. 

“I can -” Jesse starts to say as they both slide out of the booth. Gabe is already pulling his wallet out of his back pocket. 

“I told you: my treat.”

“But -”

“A few eggs and a milkshake aren’t going to break the bank,” Gabe says, handing his credit card to the cashier. Jesse notes - but isn’t sure what to make of it - that Gabe uses his personal card, not the Overwatch expense account. He shuffles on the spot, feeling the awkwardness rise in his throat again. 

Gabe holds the door for Jesse as they head out of the restaurant. Jesse walks ahead of him then hesitates by the truck, shifting from foot to foot. Gabe fishes the keys out of his pocket, blinks at Jesse. 

“What?”

Jesse shuffles again. “Thanks. That was - I had a good time.”

He leans up and kisses Gabe, softly, shyly, hoping it’s enough. Gabe, for his part, doesn’t move immediately, though a hand does come up to touch Jesse’s shoulder after a moment. Jesse pulls away first, glad for the darkness that would (hopefully) hide the blush he knows is burning up his cheeks. 

Jesse pretends to sleep the rest of the way back to the base. 

=-=-=

“I don’t think we can say we’re dating,” Jesse says conversationally. Gabe looks up from his reports, eyebrow raised. Jesse, leaning all the way back in his seat and staring at the ceiling, goes on, “I mean, we don’t really go on  _ dates _ . We just spend time together and it’s not always spent havin’ sex.”

Gabe lowers his tablet to give Jesse a look. “You want to go on dates?”

“That ain’t what I’m saying,” Jesse says quickly, rocking forward in his seat. “I’m just pointin’ it out.”

“Sure, just pointing it out,” Gabe says, rolling his eyes fondly. 

“Well, you’re busy! There’s a lot to do. For all of us to do.”

“So you don’t actually care about dates?” Gabe says, going back to the reports on his tablet. Jesse makes a face and tilts his head back to look at the ceiling again.  

“I didn’t say that, exactly.”

“Mm,” Gabe says without looking up. “Then you’re bored.”

“I’m not! Look, I know I ain’t the kinda guy you take on dates,” Jesse says, sneaking a glance at Gabe. He’s trying to keep his tone light, but he sees Gabe’s shoulders go stiff. Jesse presses on. “I just thought it might be a nice change of pace. You know - like that time you took me to the waffle place.”

Gabe blinks and looks up. “What waffle place?” he asks. Jesse’s face twists up and he turns his gaze back at the ceiling.

“It was after a mission. A long one - it was late. You took me to get waffles and we - we split a milkshake,” Jesse mumbles the last bit, cheeks going hot. It was always a good memory for him; the early days of their relationship, when they were figuring out how to navigate their dynamic, how to be around each other, with each other. He remembers Gabe paying for their meal, he remembers kissing Gabe in the parking lot afterwards. He remembers the way Gabe’s lips tasted; strawberry and whipped cream, with a little hint of cherry on top. 

Jesse hears Gabe set his tablet down but he doesn’t exactly want to meet his eyes. 

“You thought that was a date?”

“Well - yeah,” Jesse says. He looks at Gabe, but his expression is infuriatingly unreadable. 

“That wasn’t a date,” Gabe says. Jesse’s chest clenches up. “We can do better than that.”

Jesse blinks. “What?” 

Gabe is already picking up the tablet again, hitting a few keys with a little more purpose. “How does 20:00, ah, 8 o’ clock sound?”

“For what?”

“Dinner.”

“Oh,” Jesse blinks again. Gabe sets his tablet aside and give Jesse a smile. 

“I’ll pick you up at 19:30. Wear something nice.”

=-=-=

Jesse doesn’t have a lot of things of his own. Blackwatch provides the basics - their off-duty sweats are pretty damn comfy, if you asked him - and Jesse doesn’t see the point in spending his paycheck on stuff he’s only going to wear off base. He never goes off base anyway. There’s no reason for him to leave since the base has pretty much anything he could ever want, and it’s not like Jesse has a bunch of people he’d go calling on. He’d rather save his pennies; it’s the first time he’s really able to, and it’s afforded him a bit of ease in his head that he hadn’t had before. Besides, it’s not like they pay him  _ that  _ much.

The buzzer on Jesse’s door goes off at exactly 19:30. Jesse, fussing with his hat in the mirror, startles a little. He straightens his hat one last time before he opens the door. Gabe is standing on the other side, dressed in slacks and a pressed, dark collared shirt, sleeves rolled up neatly to the elbows. He looks  _ good _ . 

“Ah, hi,” Jesse says. He feels the color rising to his cheeks all over again. Gabe is giving him a strange look. 

“What are you wearing?”

Jesse looks down at himself; he’s wearing his nicest off-duty clothes, all white, with a hat to match. He bought it with one of his first paychecks from Blackwatch. It seemed appropriate; since he was going to be a good guy, it made sense to get a white hat. Now, he feels self-conscious. He shuffles on the spot.

“It’s all I’ve got,” he says. “You know - white hat. Like the good guys in the old westerns.”

Gabe’s face softens a little. “It looks good. You look good.” 

“You’re just saying that.”

“I’m not,” Gabe objects. Jesse scrunches up his face but he can tell Gabe’s tone is serious. He pushes his hat back to give Gabe a shy smile. Gabe takes the opportunity to lean in and kiss him sweetly. After so long together, it’s not fair that Gabe can make him feel like an infatuated kid again. “Come on, we’re gonna be late.”

=-=-=

It’s a short shuttle flight into town. Gabe lands and leads Jesse to a small, dark restaurant with white table cloths and candlelight. Jesse hesitates - hating how unsure of himself he feels and wishing he never said anything about dates in the first place. He can blame Fareeha for that one later (they had been watching romcoms as inspiration for a date Fareeha had planned with Angela). Gabe opens the door for Jesse, allowing him to step in ahead of him. He pauses in the foyer, looking around at the dark wood and candle light. Gabe puts a hand on the small of Jesse’s back and urges him forward to the host’s stand. They’re greeted by a hostess in a starched white shirt. 

“Do you have a reservation?” she asks in heavily accented English. 

“Yes - two, for Reyes.”

“Of course, sir. Right this way.”

Gabe gives Jesse a little nudge and he stumbles over his feet awkwardly before regaining his composure. It’s weird that Gabe seems so at ease in this kind of place, but Jesse is trying to go along with it. If he pretends this is just a mission, it seems less weird. 

The hostess brings them to a secluded table in the corner. Gabe pulls a chair out and looks at Jesse expectantly. He takes a moment to realize that Gabe is  _ pulling a chair out for him _ . He sits hastily and pulls off his hat, running his hand through his hair self consciously. Gabe takes a seat across from him and the hostess hands them menus. 

“Your server will be right with you.”

Jesse blinks at the menu, but he has no idea what any of it says; it’s not in English. He looks across the table - over several wine glasses - at Gabe, who still doesn’t seem fazed by any of this. 

“Why are there so many forks?” Jesse asks. Gabe snorts.

“Were you raised in a barn?” 

“Pretty much.”

“Well you’re asking the wrong guy,” Gabe says, moving some of the forks around. “I'm pretty sure you're supposed to use one for each course.”

“Why?” Jesse shifts some wine glasses out of the way so he can actually see Gabe. He looks  _ good _ all dressed up like this; it'd be a shame not to take in the view. The candle light makes him look handsome and brooding in the best way. 

“Because it's fancy,” Gabe says. “Hell if I know.”

Jesse cracks a smile and looks down at his menu again. He's not great with languages - as Fareeha points out, he can barely speak English - but he knows enough to try to parse out what’s on offer. It takes him a few minutes to realize that the numbers at the end of each line are the prices. 

“Gabe…” he starts. 

“There's steak, Jesse,” Gabe says, glancing up from the menu. “I won't make you eat snails.”

“That ain't what I'm worried about.”

“What?”

“This is too much,” Jesse says. The old anxieties about money start to bubble up again. He shifts in his seat. 

“It's a date. It's my treat,” Gabe says, putting the menu down. “You're supposed to be enjoying yourself.”

“It's just - it's a lot.”

Gabe gives Jesse a long look across the table. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah, come on.”

“What - now? But we're already -”

“We haven't ordered anything. We're under no obligation.”

Jesse sneaks a glance around. Nobody seems to be paying any attention to them. They  _ could _ sneak out…

“This isn't a covert op, Jesse. Come on, grab your hat.”

=-=-=

They end up at a burger joint. Jesse feels a thousand times more at ease under the fluorescent lights, sitting in a booth with a plastic tray in front of him, stacked high with burgers and fries. Gabe comes back with a couple little cups full of ketchup. He smiles at Jesse as he slides into a seat across from him. 

“Better?” he asks. Jesse nods enthusiastically. 

“I'm a man of simple pleasures.”

Gabe laughs. “Should've known better. I don't go in for that fancy stuff either.”

“Well at least now I know that in desperate times, instead of highway robbery, I can always open a fancy restaurant.”

“Seems more complicated.”

“Maybe just rob a fancy place then.”

Gabe shakes his head fondly and picks up a burger to unwrap it. He stops. 

“Hold on - one more thing.”

Jesse blinks, mouth already full of burger, as Gabe gets up and goes back to the counter. A few minutes later, Gabe comes back with a milkshake and two straws. 

“Here,” Gabe says, setting it between them. “It's strawberry.”

Jesse smiles broadly as Gabe unwraps the straws and sticks them into the shake. He nudges it closer to Jesse so he can have a sip. It doesn’t taste as good as the one at the waffle house all that time ago - but it’s close. It’s better, though, because Gabe leans in to take a sip from the other straw at the same time and Jesse’s heart goes racing. 

He could stand to have another date like this. 

=-=-=

Gabe is sprawled over Jesse, kissing him deeply, hands in his hair. The top few buttons of his collared shirt are unbuttoned and Jesse keeps trying to get his hands under the fabric to get at his chest. 

“Mm - ah, don't want you t’ think -”

Gabe moves his mouth over the line of Jesse’s jaw. It's distracting. Jesse shifts underneath him, trying to get friction where he needs it, baring his throat to Gabe. 

“Not really thinking right now,” he says, pressing his mouth just under Jesse’s ear. He squirms. 

“No - just mean - don't want you to think I put out on the first date,” Jesse says, still squirming, panting a little. Gabe stops, lips pressed against his throat. He raises his eyes to look at Jesse. 

“What?”

“‘M not easy,” Jesse says, eyes bright. Gabe laughs and kisses Jesse soundly. 

“Never crossed my mind.”

“Good - do that again,” Jesse says, leaning up to chase his mouth. 

“I thought this wasn't our first date, anyway,” Gabe says against his lips. Jesse nips at him, pretending to consider it. 

“Maybe not.”

“You want me to stop?”

“Hell no.”

Gabe kisses Jesse deeply as Jesse wraps his arms around his shoulder to pull him in closer, tasting strawberries and cream and feeling totally content.  


End file.
